


Scraping Through (Give Me Something to Hold On To)

by RobinsonsWereHere



Series: The Best Things, The Richest Things [2]
Category: Psych
Genre: Episode: s04e09 Shawn Takes a Shot In the Dark, F/M, Shules, Soulmate AU, Soulmates Can Feel Each Other's Pain, henry's known for years, i enjoy writing AUs of this episode, nothing like near-death experiences to trigger a confession of love, shawn and jules are a bit oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-02 21:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18819691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinsonsWereHere/pseuds/RobinsonsWereHere
Summary: Juliet O'Hara wakes from a dead sleep, feeling like she's just been shot in the chest.Shawn Spencer has been shot in the chest.She hadn't known he was her soulmate until now. She might have suspected, but she'd never really known. Now, she might not even get the chance to tell him.





	1. Need You Like I Need a Hole in the Heart

Juliet sits bolt upright in the pitch-black darkness of 4:30 AM. She’s had those dreams where she feels pain until she wakes, but she’s awake now and the pain isn’t going away. She can feel a white-hot sensation, as if something has ripped through her shoulder, torn through muscle and destroyed bone-

A bullet wound.

Juliet identifies the wound in the same instant she realizes she’s not the one suffering it. She’s used to random bruises and small cuts from her soulmate, or a broken leg, at worst, but never something like this. By the time she realizes she’s reached for her phone, she’s already holding it in her hand.

“No,” she says aloud, just to convince herself. “It’s not him.” If she makes this call, chances are she’ll interrupt him getting a good night’s sleep. Shawn is probably snoozing comfortably with his girlfriend. There’s no reason for her to call him.

All three calls go to voicemail.

Still cursing herself and her inability to let literally sleeping dogs lie, Juliet tries Gus.

_”H’lo?”_

“Gus, hey, it’s Juliet. Do you, uh, you wouldn’t happen to know where Shawn is, would you?” The longer she stays on the phone the more she’s sure this whole thing is ridiculous. She should hang up and go back to sleep.

_”I left him at the Psych office around ten. I assume he’s at home asleep.”_

“Of course. You’re right. Sorry to wake you, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Juliet hangs up and flops into bed. _He’s asleep. He’s fine. He hasn’t been shot in the heart because he’s not your soulmate. He’s got Abigail. Let it go, you missed your chance._

Her phone rings. It’s Gus again. Juliet frowns and answers. “Gus?”

_”I don’t know what kind of psychic dream you had, but after you hung up I realized I had a text from Shawn- it’s just an address. He’s not answering my calls.”_

Juliet’s chest constricts, and it feels like the still-burning pain in her shoulder is spreading over her entire body. “What’s the address?”

:::::::::::

Lassiter pulls into the near-empty parking lot to find his partner and Guster already there. “How did you beat me here?”

Guster looks like he has an answer, but O’Hara beats him to it. “Gus called me first. I called you once I realized there was actually something wrong.”

He joins the pair in staring down at a blood spatter on the concrete. It seems like whoever was injured was quickly removed from the scene; there’s not enough blood to get a sense of what sort of injury was inflicted. Apparently, his partner disagrees.

“Bullet to the left shoulder. Just missed the heart, I think. Might’ve hit an artery.”

He gapes at her, noticing she’s massaging her own shoulder. “How did you get all that from a blood spatter? That’s impossible!”

“Just a hunch.” O’Hara doesn’t meet his gaze.

He narrows his eyes. “Yeah? What’s up with your arm?” Suspicion is growing in the back of his mind, like he knows what this is but can’t quite say it.

She stops rubbing her shoulder. “Nothing.”

Before Carlton can prod further, Guster holds up his phone. “I got a text from Shawn!”

The text is gibberish. **binshot not lol**

“Well that’s the exact opposite of helpful,” he growls. O’Hara and Guster stare at each other. “What?”

“Been shot, not kidding,” Guster translates.

O’Hara swallows hard. She looks upset. “Shawn’s been shot.”

:::::::::::  
Henry pushes through the police barricade only to be stopped by Karen, who’s standing with her arms folded across her chest. “Henry, you’re a civilian. You can’t be here.”

He matches her stance. “This is my son we’re talking about. Of course I’m gonna be here.”

She shakes her head. “You’ll compromise the case.”

“Karen, what do you think I’m gonna do, sit on my ass while my son is in trouble!?”

“Henry, you do not work for this department!”

“Fine! Gus!”

Gus looks alarmed. “Um, yes, Mr. Spencer?”

“Hire me.”

“What?”

“Hire me at Psych. I’ll take an unpaid internship or something, I don’t care. Just get me on this case.”

Gus nods slowly, then makes a knighting motion with his hand. “Sure?”

Karen drops her head into her hands. “Fine. This way.” 

They rejoin O’Hara and Lassiter, both of whom are stony-faced. “What happened?” Henry asks.

“We don’t know,” Lassiter replies with a frown.

Henry looks at Juliet. She’s just as stiff as her partner, aside from the fact that a hand occasionally strays to her shoulder. Her eyes are filled with horror and trepidation. “Juliet, what happened?”

“Like Carlton said-”

“There’s a reason I’m not asking Lassiter.”

It’s possible he might be wrong. He could be off in his estimate of when she’d been at the academy, and if those years coincided with the years Shawn always seemed to have too many bruises. The limp she’d attained around the time Shawn had broken his leg might have been Henry’s imagination. He might have misinterpreted how Shawn looked at Juliet like she lit up his world, or the quiet laughs and indulgent smiles Juliet gave when Shawn told stupid jokes. But he doesn’t think so.

Juliet stares at him, her blue gaze piercing through him for almost a minute. Then she speaks. “He got shot in the shoulder, sometime around four-thirty this morning. Somebody knocked him out, some sort of blow to the head. That’s all I know.”

Henry swallows hard. “Okay.”

The four of them stand there, close together and quiet in the hubbub of the crime scene processing. Karen is quick to start issuing orders.

“I want one team tracking him down from here and another retracing his footsteps from… whatever he was investigating last. “Mr. Guster, I think you should lead that team, and feel free to take your… intern with you. O’Hara, Lassiter, you know what to do. Find somewhere that lines up with Shawn’s text, and go from there.”

Juliet sighs in frustration. “I can’t.”

Lassiter frowns. Karen raises an eyebrow. “What?” they ask simultaneously.

“I can’t go in the field. I’ll be a liability. The last thing we need is me passing out from a secondhand concussion.” She looks mad at herself. Henry wonders if she knows that it’s not her fault. That there’s no way she could’ve saved Shawn because she had no way of knowing anything was wrong before she felt him get shot. He thinks she does. He also thinks she’s still blaming herself.

“So you really are soulmates, then?” Lassiter looks confused.

“Hell if I know. But I do know there’s no such thing as a coincidence.”

Karen steps in before Lassiter can voice the clear disapproval on his face. “Detective O’Hara, I agree with your decision. Unfortunately, since Guster is the only one who knows what he and Mr. Spencer were investigating, I’ll have to send Henry with Lassiter.”

“Of course. I’m going to find my son.”

Nobody other than Henry really looks happy about the arrangement, but they don’t have much of a choice. Juliet follows Gus to where their cars are parked, and Henry heads for the forensic unit with Lassiter. Karen begins barking orders, some of which she directs at her detectives.

“Remember, keep in touch. If either team finds something, both should know about it ASAP. Spencer, Lassiter, I want hourly check-ins!”

They go their separate ways. Henry looks over at Lassiter. “I sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing.”

The head detective scoffs. “Try to keep up, old man.”


	2. I'm Still Alive (But I'm Barely Breathing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juliet has a natural talent for police work. This is especially useful when she's trying to act as though everything is normal when in fact, it feels like her chest is being pulled apart, bone by bone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've discovered that it's interesting to write physical pain. Low-key feeling like the bookstore guy from 6x14 rn.

Shawn stumbles through the forest, running as fast as he can. He rolls his ankle once and countless branches scrape across his face and arms but he ignores the pain and keeps running. All he can see is green- he’s not even following a path. His blood is pounding in his ears and his head hurts like hell, but the only thing he focuses on is zigging and zagging as fast as he can.

He crashes into a tree.

His head hurts even worse now. His shoulder is burning and throbbing with pain- scratch that, his whole arm is. Shawn knows he has to keep going, but despite that knowledge, despite the desperate need to survive coursing through his veins, he falls to his knees. He slumps against the rough bark of the tall oak. Try as he might, he can’t keep his eyes open. He fumbles with a bush and manages to tie a shred of his shirt to it, and then everything goes back.

:::::::::::::::

Juliet and Gus are entering the auto shop when she feels a sharp pain in her ankle. With a hiss of discomfort, Juliet grabs at Gus’ shoulder until she thinks the danger of her leg giving out has passed. Gus looks worried. “What’s happening?”

She winces and brings a hand to her cheek, almost expecting it to come away bloody. “I think Shawn’s escaped from whoever kidnapped him… feels like he’s running through a forest or something.” She still feels unsteady on her feet, or maybe that’s just a side effect of the worry that seems to have replaced the blood in her veins. “I’ll text Carlton, tell him to look in the woods.” She snorts at the thought of how many wooded forests are around the area her partner is looking. “That’ll make him happy.”

As it turns out, the mechanic gives them next to nothing- a name, probably an alias. It has to be enough.

::::::::::::::::::

“Hey, try this turn.”

Lassiter makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl. “Spencer, we just took that turn. We’re driving in circles.”

“Lassiter, I know what I’m doing. Take the turn.”

“No.”

“Just trust me on this!”

“I don’t. You’re emotionally compromised.” Carlton clenches his jaw and grips the steering wheel tighter.

“You’re damn right I’m emotionally compromised! Lassiter, let me out of this car so I can go find my son or I will punch through your window.”

They end up trekking through the forest. Henry is faster than Lassiter would’ve expected, and the physical exertion leads to sweat which leads to more annoyance. At last, Henry comes to a stop- so abruptly that Carlton crashes right into him. “Spencer, what the hell?”

The older man crouches by a bush. “Look,” he says, pointing out a scrap of fabric. “That has Shawn written all over it. I taught him to do that.”

Lassiter decides not to comment on the roughness of Henry’s voice or the tears he thinks he sees in his eyes. “Alright then.” He brushes dirt off his blazer. “I guess we’re headed in the right direction.”

::::::::::::::

Gus paces back and forth near Juliet’s desk. She’s running a comprehensive search through all of the SBPD’s databases for Garth Longmoore, and he knows that’s useful, but he still can’t shake the feeling that he wants to be _doing_ something. Not that he particularly wants to be chasing down a mad gunman, but… he just wants his best friend back.

“Gus, can you please stop pacing?” He pauses and turns to look at Juliet- she’s a mess. She’s barely even watching the computer, instead holding her head in her hands. He can tell her jaw is clenched, and every so often one of her deep breaths turns into a hiss of pain.

“Juliet,” he ventures, “are you alright?”

“My head hurts.” She takes another deep breath. “But _I’m_ fine.” She scrolls through another page of data, then turns and makes eye contact with Gus. He’s not sure if the agony in her eyes is from the physical pain, or if she, too, wishes she could do more. “I don’t know how long he has,” she admits. “I think he’s tied up, somewhere- I can feel pain in weird places, like he’s tied at an awkward angle. And… there’s so much pain, just… everywhere. I know how long it should take for a bullet to the shoulder to kill him. I’m afraid we’re running out of time.”

Gus swallows and shakes his head. “Maybe you’re wrong.”

Juliet shrugs. “I might be. I might be off.”

A question he’s not sure he wants the answer to is on the tip of his tongue. “How sure are you? Is this just, like, a gut feeling, or…”

“A combination of both. Yeah, I’m adjusting my estimate based on the pain, but kidnapping cases are always a race against time, even when the victim hasn’t been shot.”

He thinks about it. “You probably know those numbers just as well as I know dosages for common medications, huh?”

Juliet nods, turning back to her computer. “Pretty much.”

:::::::::::::

Henry frowns at the decrepit gas station across the road from them. “Huh.”

Lassiter squints. “Why would an abandoned gas station have a singular car parked at it?”

They exchange glances and then start across the road. Henry goes to take the lead, but Lassiter cuts in front of him.

“Uh, excuse me.”

“I’ve got a gun, you stay back.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Let me go first.”

The detective shakes his head. “You are so much like your son.”

“I’d like to think I’ve got more of a head on my shoulders than he does.”

“I wouldn’t bet money on it.”

“For god’s sake, Lassiter, just let me take the lead!”

“Again, no! Not going to happen!”

They reach the gas station. A lanky, greasy man answers the door. “Can I help you?” His voice is a growl that sounds almost as oily as his hair looks.

Henry gets a gut feeling that they should make something up just a second too late- Lassiter has already pulled out his badge. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about a guy being kidnapped, would you?” He leans in threateningly. “You know, just because you’re one of the last gas stations before the desert. You might have…” his hand rests on his gun. “Seen something.”

The rat-looking man scowls. “I ain’t got no clue what the hell you’re talkin’ about. And I don’t gotta answer to you unless you have probable cause.” He snarls the last two words.

Henry sighs and runs a hand over his head. He and Lassiter exchange glances. The detective steps back. “Let us know if you see anything.”

Defeated, they head for their own car.

::::::::::::::::::

Karen can honestly say that the current situation is… unprecedented.

Not because she doesn’t know people who’ve met their soulmates. On the contrary, quite a few of her officers have found their forever loves, herself included. But usually, it’s her officers acquiring injuries, and their soulmates worrying- not the other way around. If trying to locate and rescue Spencer isn’t bad enough, she’s now also constantly cataloguing O’Hara’s state- if she’s visibly reacting to the pain, if it’s becoming worse, if she’d even mention if it was.

“How are you doing, Detective?” the chief asks, pausing at O’Hara’s desk on her way back to her own office.

O’Hara frowns at a list of license plates matching a partial number she’d pulled from traffic cams. “It hurts to breathe.”

Karen hums noncommittally, but the statement is worrisome. _If Henry and Lassiter don’t find Shawn soon, they might be looking for a body dump._ “You’re keeping everyone updated as best you can, yes?”

“Of course.”

Karen nods and heads for her office, but O’hara stops her. “Chief?”

“Yes?”

“If- _when_ they find Shawn, I’d like to go with the rescue team. I feel like we’ll need all the help we can get to get him back.”

Karen nods slowly. Yes, it’s not the best idea to send O’Hara into the field when she’s suffering near-debilitating pain, but it’s also not the best idea to let Spencer and Lassiter loose in rural Santa Barbara. And if the detective thinks she can handle it, then chances are, she can.

“Alright,” she answers. “That would be fine. Keep me updated.”

O’Hara nods and goes back to her work. When Karen reaches her office, she turns back to survey the bullpen. Everything looks normal, even during a crisis.

That’s good. That means she’s doing her job well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it >:) leave a comment or kudos if you did!


	3. I Should Tell You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn has a chance to make one phone call. He gets more than he bargains for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my fav chapter of this fic tbh

Shawn watches with a sinking feeling as his dad and Lassie walk away, likely taking his chances of survival with them. He’s almost used to the constant pain by now… unless he moves. Then something new hurts, and he has to grit his teeth while a fresh wave of fire burns through him.

He doesn’t want to die, though. He doesn’t want to just sit here until Longmoore and his friend decide to dispose of him. And with his captors currently out of the room, he has a chance to make his move. Shawn sets his gaze on his cell phone, just a few feet away.

It takes some doing, and lying on is side on the floor while still half-taped to a chair is not convenient by any means, but he does it. He’s scrolling through his contacts- no way is he accidentally calling his crazy ex again- when Longmoore walks in. _Damn it._

“Hey, what are you doing? You can’t use your phone!”

“I…” Shawn thinks fast, looking from Longmoore to the photos on the wall to the screen he’d landed on- the contact has one phone number and reads only **Jules**. “Look, man, I know I’m probably gonna die here.”

Longmoore looks wary, but he doesn’t say or do anything, so Shawn continues. “I just, before I go, I wanna call my girl, you know? I don’t want her to worry, and… I wanna say goodbye. Tell her I love her, and all that.” He convinces himself that the emotion bubbling inside his chest when he thinks of Juliet is merely a side effect of trying to play Longmoore.

His shooter is nodding slowly. Just as Shawn had expected, he keeps glancing toward the photo of the redhead. “Just your girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Just Juliet.” Shawn winces. _Why did I mention her name? I could’ve just not said anything, or even, I don’t know, used the name of my actual girlfriend._

“Fine. You got five minutes, and I’m not going anywhere. Say goodbye, that’s it.”

Shawn sighs in relief and jabs at the call button.

::::::::::::

Juliet is texting Carlton when her phone rings. She gasps when she sees that it’s Shawn- maybe the feeling that she’s recently body-slammed a wall was from him trying to get to his phone. Quickly, she answers. “Shawn?”

_”Jules… something’s happened.”_

“Yes, I know, Carlton and-”

_”I can’t explain everything,”_ he interrupts, _”but I promise you I’ll never really be gone.”_

“Shawn, what are you talking about? Where are you?”

_”When you see the wind chimes, think of me.”_ In the background, Juliet can hear a rough voice. She winces as she feels what must be a kick in the ribs, but now everything makes sense- he’s not alone, he can’t speak freely. But Shawn’s not done. _”Jules, I need you to know… I love you.”_

“Shawn… I- I think that I-” Juliet swallows. “I love you too.”

_”Hold on, seriously? You what?”_

Before Juliet can respond to the abrupt change in conversation, she hears and feels a scuffle, and then the line goes dead.

:::::::::::::

“Wind chimes? I mean… there was a shifty looking gas station a while back, but we couldn’t get in there… you think that’s where he is?” Lassiter is trying to drive and talk to O’Hara at the same time, but the sun is in his eyes. He takes his steering hand off the wheel just long enough to flip the visor down.

_”That’s all I’ve got, Carlton. Wind chimes. Can you just go back there? Check it out?”_

“We will. Just let us finish canvassing this side road first.”

O’Hara’s tone grows sharp. _”Carlton, he’s running out of time. You need to do something.”_

“I know, O’Hara. I’m trying. Give me a little more time.”

_”We don’t have any more time!”_

Lassiter takes a deep breath. This conversation is going in circles. Right as he’s about to bluntly inform O’Hara that it will take as long as it fucking takes, he hears a sharp intake of breath. Just the small noise is all it takes to make him reset.

He can picture her at her desk, probably with that expression like she’s in pain but trying to hide it- which is exactly what she’s doing. He knows she’s hurting and he hates it, hates that a couple of bastards who are low-level bank robbers at best are doing so much to Spencer that O’Hara can barely breathe. He slams the car horn in frustration.

“All right. We’ll head back to the gas station. I’ll call you with an update.”

_”Thanks. I’m sorry I snapped, I’m just… frustrated.”_

“Understandable. I’ll call you later, O’Hara.”

_”Bye.”_

::::::::::::::

Gus is dozing on a bench (he’s been awake for a long time, okay!?) when Juliet gets off the phone with Lassie for the third time in an hour. “Gus, c’mon!” she calls. “Carlton and Henry are in pursuit of the perps who have Shawn, we can meet them at the Carillo-Westdrive intersection if we hurry!”

“Huh? I thought you weren’t gonna be in the field on this case!” Gus scrambles up and hurries to catch up with Juliet.

“I wasn’t in the field, I’m just helping with the rescue op. Knight, Stone, Booth, Reynolds, get your asses in a squad car!” Gus almost laughs as the four beat cops, looking alarmed, scurry to their vehicle.

“Wait a minute,” he says as they reach the parking lot, “whose car are we taking?”

“We’ll take mine, since yours is a company car, and I’m not driving an Echo in a high-speed chase.”

“I don’t think you should be driving at all…”

“How much pursuit driving training do you have?” Gus remains silent. “That’s what I thought.” And then, before Gus can decide whether he actually _wants_ to be involved in a high-speed car chase, they’re cruising out of the parking lot and toward… wherever Shawn is right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks fore reading! As always, comments and kudos are appreciated <3


	4. The Thing About Soulmates (Is That They Can Be Hard to Find)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn is rescued. He figures some things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i'm having so much fun with this fic im a lil sad that it'll be over tomorrow

Shawn crouches in the back of the pickup truck, which is going way over the speed limit, and far too fast for him to get to his feet when he’s still shaky after having been tied up for the past eleven hours. The problem is (one of the problems, he has many at the moment) he kind of needs to get to his feet, because right now his only escape plan is to jump onto Lassie’s car- twenty feet away.

Just as he manages to stand, the truck swerves, and he almost falls out. Shawn groans in pain as he’s thrown to the floor of the truck bed, then pulls himself up just enough to see what had caused the sudden change of direction. “Oh, hey Jules,” he mutters to himself. He never would’ve thought of driving a VW Beetle in a car chase, but it seems to be working for her. Once again, he gets to his feet.

Gus, in the passenger seat of Juliet’s car, rolls down the window. “Shawn, what are you doing!?”

“I’m jumping on your car!”

Juliet opens her window, too. “Absolutely not! That is not safe!”

“Fine!” Shawn moves unsteadily to the other side of the truck. “Lassie! I’m jumping on your car!”

“Not a chance in hell, Spencer!”

Shawn folds his arms across his chest, attempting a stubborn stance despite the fact that he still feels like he’s going to fall on his face. “I have been shot! I am jumping on someone’s car!”

As if summoned by the mention of guns, someone in the cab of the truck starts shooting. Shawn ducks, but he still sees Juliet’s Beetle swerve off the road as a bullet punctures the tire. _Well, I guess I know whose car I’m jumping on._

“Lassie! I’m gonna jump!”

“Don’t even think about it Spencer, this paint job is fresh, I swear to god if you touch my car I will-”

Shawn throws himself onto the hood of the blue Ford. Unfortunately, there are still people shooting at them. His dad and Lassie are squabbling over Lassie’s gun, but neither of them has a clear shot.

“Give me the gun!” he yells.

Henry wrestles the pistol away from Lassiter. “What?”

“Give it to me! I can make the shot!”

Henry hands it through the window, much to Lassiter’s dismay. “Spencer, what the hell are you doing!?”

“Which Spencer are you talking to?”

“It doesn’t matter! You’re the same person!”

Shawn shoots out the radiator of the truck, but almost immediately, the two criminals leap from the cab. Henry, Lassie, and a newly arrived Jules give chase on foot. After exchanging a glance with Gus, Shawn does too- much to his friend’s exasperation.

“Shawn! You are in no shape to be running!”

Shawn doesn’t have the breath to reply, but before he can even try to speak, he sees Jules catch her foot on a pothole. Why she wears heels to chase criminals, he’ll never understand, but before he can think further, he feels a searing pain in his ankle, and he hits the ground at the same time she does. Only, Shawn’s neither wearing heels nor anywhere near a pothole. _Well. That’s weird._ Once he’s lying on the ground, he doesn’t particularly want to get back up, so he stays there and watches the arrest unfold upside down. His pounding heart makes his shoulder throb, his ribs hurt whenever he breathes, and his headache is worse than any hangover he’s ever had. Just as he decides maybe he’ll close his eyes and go to sleep, he sees a familiar face standing over him.

“Shawn,” Gus says. “Hold on. You’re okay. We’re gonna get you to a hospital.”

His dad is there, too. “You had us scared for a bit there, son.”

“He’s still slowly bleeding out from the shoulder, and who knows what his ribs have torn open,” Lassiter argues. “I think you should still be scared.”

Shawn wonders how Lassie knows about his ribs. He wonders why Juliet has a hand to her own. He thinks he knows why, he thinks it has to do with why his ankle hurts even though it was Jules who fell, but before he can summon the brainpower to put the pieces together, he passes out.

::::::::::::::::

Abigail rushes into the hospital, finding Gus in the hallway. “Gus, oh my god, what happened?”

“Shawn got shot this morning. He’s just out of surgery, but he’s still asleep. We didn’t call you earlier because we didn’t want you to worry while he was still missing.”

She follows him down the hallway to Shawn’s hospital room. “Missing? What?”

“The guys who shot him kidnapped him. We don’t know if they were going to ransom him or just kill him, but…” he pushes open the door. “He’s alright now.”

Abigail nods and moves into the room. Henry Spencer is sitting in a chair by Shawn’s bed, watching his son. There’s another chair on the other side- Abigail assumes Gus will take it, but he sits on the small couch across the room. It takes her a second to figure out how he manages that- Detective O’Hara is also occupying the couch, curled into herself but also hanging half-off of it. There are papers Abigail’s not sure she’s supposed to see strewn everywhere.  
With a shrug, she sits in the chair and fixes her attention on Shawn. So she remains for several long hours.

After three hours in the same position, she goes to stretch her legs. As she’s about to push the door open and return to the room, she hears talking.

_”Should we wake Juliet?”_

_”I don’t think so. She’s been in a lot of pain all day. With Shawn out, this is the first time she’s not feeling anything. Let her rest.”_

Abigail frowns. Yes, she knows she’s not Shawn’s soulmate, she knows she would’ve felt his pain if she was, but still. Could they really be saying what she thinks she’s hearing? _I don’t think I want to know._ With that, she announces her presence. “Hey, I guess they’re out of coffee. Or maybe they finally realized they were breaking their own health code,” she jokes. All of the laughter in the room is awkward. She goes back to her seat by Shawn’s bed.

Shawn wakes a few hours later. The first few times, he’s loopy on pain medication and only mumbles to Abigail about how she’s beautiful and amazing and he loves the ocean-like color of her eyes. Abigail’s eyes are brown, but she doesn’t have the energy to correct him. Detective O’Hara, who does, in fact, have blue eyes, leaves soon after that.

Finally, around lunchtime, Shawn becomes fully lucid. He smiles at Abigail and sheepishly apologizes for worrying her, but mostly he picks at his food, silent. Abigail sits and thinks. She knows Shawn’s not her soulmate, she’s known for a while, but it hasn’t bothered her until now. She wonders about her actual soulmate, and about Shawn’s. Was her soulmate waiting somewhere for her, concerned every time she tripped on the stairs or accidentally cut herself while making food? Was Shawn’s soulmate out there, having spent the last few hours terrified for his life? After the conversation she’d accidentally overheard, she suspected Shawn’s perfect match was somewhat closer than hers.

“Abigail?” She looks up when Shawn says her name. “Abs, you’re amazing, sweetheart. I just want to make sure you know that.”

Abigail frowns, confused. “Uh… thanks… is something wrong?”

Shawn shakes his head with a sigh. “You deserve to be in a relationship with someone who loves you.”

She bites her lip. Her mouth has gone dry. “You say that like you don’t.”

“Abigail, I love you… or I did, but… it’s unfair of me to string you along when I’m in love with someone else.”

She swallows. She doesn’t know why she’s upset- she’s just been musing over the concept of soulmates, and the fact that she and Shawn aren’t- but for some reason, she still feels hurt. “You- you are?”

“I… I think I have been for a while. It took me too long to realize it, though. You really are special, Abs, and I hope you find someone who can show you that.”

She nods. “Alright, Shawn. I get it.”

He looks at her for a long time. “Abigail?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She stands and kisses his forehead, already grabbing her bag to leave. “It was good while it lasted, Shawn. Get well soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilogue coming tomorrow!


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By now, there's only one person who _doesn't_ know for sure that Shawn and Juliet are soulmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! This is only the... third multichapter fic I've ever finished.

Juliet is trying to fill out paperwork, but Shawn and Gus in the background are being very distracting. She faces her work and only her work, ignoring the movement in her peripheral vision, but it’s been going on for a solid ten minutes now. When she feels a sharp pain in her shoulder, she snaps. “Shawn! Stop messing around! You’re going to tear your stitches!” She turns to glare at him, rubbing at her shoulder.

“Jules, do you have eyes in the back of your head or-” she frowns as she sees him stumble over the words. “...something…”

“Um.” She freezes. “I didn’t- I just-”

“Jules, did you… can you feel it? When I feel pain?”

“I, uh…” she swallows. She’s been avoiding the topic for the past few weeks, but there’s not getting out of this now. She spies Gus out of the corner of her eye, sneaking off down a hallway. “Um, yes. I can.”

He stares at her. “When I got shot, and kidnapped… the whole time?”

“Yeah… actually, I woke up when you were shot, and called Gus. That’s when he noticed he had a text from you.”

Shawn runs a hand through his hair. “Jesus. I’m sorry.”

Juliet steps closer to him, tentatively taking his hand. “Shawn, don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”

He nods, pulling her closer. “So, we’re soulmates?”

“We are.” Her voice is breathy and her heart is beating fast.

“Well, then…” Shawn smiles at her. “Close talking?”

She tears her gaze from his lips and makes a noise of protest. “Shawn, you have a girlfriend.”

He shakes his head. “We broke up. When I told you I loved you… I realized I meant it.”

“I meant it too.” She tugs gently at the collar of his shirt, and he pulls her in. The feeling of his mouth on hers is the best sensation she’s felt all week. 

They have maybe a minute to hold each other as close as they can before they’re interrupted. “Excuse me, Spencer, is your possibly nonexistent brain able to comprehend that this is a police station?”

Juliet blushes and attempts to fix her hair. “Carlton, give it a rest.”

Beside her, Shawn just grins.

_~fin~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, let me know!


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